


Playing with the Devil

by ashisfriendly



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Oral Sex, Role-Playing Game, Shameless Smut, Smut, Table Sex, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:10:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3887032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/pseuds/ashisfriendly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy surprises April for her birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opti/gifts).



> Another fill for a pinky promise. Prompt was Salem Witch Trial role-playing. Oops.

“Andy, I really don’t think you should use spray--”

Andy’s done shaking the can and he starts painting the shapes from the book onto the wall. Leslie yells something else behind him but he’s not paying attention. She brought all these awesome books, with awesome pictures and everything, to help him set up the house. Since then he’s been running around trying to get the place ready for April’s special birthday surprise. 

It started simple enough. He had a rad song ready for her and everything, but last night it started to feel off. One time, Burly said that songs sometimes rock really hard, but aren’t right, and Andy finally knows what that means. Leslie asked him what was wrong as he was laying on the floor of the office this morning. He told her he had nothing for April’s birthday so they brainstormed.

And that brings them here.

“That’s spray paint, that’s not going to come off,” Leslie says.

“It smells good, though,” Andy says and he takes a whiff.

“Andy--”

There’s a hard slam from outside and Andy falls off the counter. Leslie squeals and runs to him but he, despite his head swirling from the paint fumes and sudden fall, tries desperately to get her to leave. 

“Go, go, go!” Andy says, struggling to his feet. He finally lets Leslie help him up. “Where’s her dress?” 

“On the table!”

“Am I doing the accent right?”

“What accent?”

“Crap,” Andy runs around the house, trying to shove pizza boxes under the coach or just out of eyesight. He trips on a fake candle Leslie brought. He guesses he sees why she brought the fake ones now. “Shit.”

“Lights!” Leslie yells just as Andy hears April’s key slide into the lock.

Andy runs to turn off the lights, Leslie opens the sliding glass door to the backyard, and whispers, “Good luck, be safe,” before the glass door closes with a slow thud.

“Babe?”

Andy whirls around and scrambles to the table for April’s dress. He throws it at her before he can even get a good look at her. He hasn’t seen her since this morning and he misses her so much and she’s so pretty but it’s very important that she change. 

April makes some kind of groan sound underneath the fabric as she scrambles to remove it from her head. Andy panics, his brain trying to organize and engage all the information Leslie told him while simultaneously finding a way to accurately describe to her what to do with the dress while remaining in character.

“Miss Ludgate, put on your dress!” Andy yells. April pulls the dress from her face and her eyes are shining in the faint glow of countless fake candles. Their flickers are really natural looking, though, it’s kind of eerie. 

“What?”

“What are these, anyway?” Andy touches the front of her open cardigan and scoffs. “It’s obvious you are a witch from… Salem, Massachusetts in the year 1692! I’ve never seen these kind of garments before in my life.” 

April looks down at the dress and back up at Andy, her eyebrows furrowed and chin down. She looks around the foyer and takes a step, then another. She takes in the house, very dark, fake candle light abundant throughout. There’s the symbols Andy’s painted onto the wall and the books and other things that Leslie scattered everywhere. There’s jars full of water with different mixes of food coloring and one of those old timey sand timer things that Leslie just happened to have at her house. 

He found a lot of stuff in a box labeled ‘WONDERS OF HELL’ in the closet to scatter around the house as well. She picks up one of the items, a small fake plant with blood all over it. She puts it down and is still for a long time. Andy almost goes to her, but he’s stricken with doubt. Did he do this wrong? Did he not hear her right when she said she loved the Salem witch trials? He had a small unit about it in his Women’s Studies class and he could’ve sworn she was really into it.

“Turn around,” she says. It’s dark and smooth and so commanding that Andy doesn’t even think twice before spinning.

Andy waits. He’s not sure why he’s turned around, not sure why he’s not able to see his smoking hot wife on her birthday. But it’s fine, everything is fine, everything is always fine between him and April. Even if he got something wrong, she’ll be okay, they’ll be okay. He hears soft movements behind him and the sound of glass on the counter. She moved something. Maybe the jar of fake eyeballs.

Then, April screams. 

Andy turns and runs toward her, worried. She’s fine, her dress that Leslie found at her house is over her body. It’s a little big, the sleeve falling off of her shoulder. It’s hot, stupid hot. Her hands are outstretched toward him, her face contorted with terror. When he makes contact, his hands on her forearms ready to slid up and envelope her, she screams again.

“Who let you in here?” she says, panicked. “This is my property, Inquisitor Macklin! You can’t just come into my house.”

Andy leans back, his spine straightening, chin rising. Macklin, huh? Sure Macklin could time travel. Macklin can bring any town to justice, especially towns ridden with witches. Just the mention of that name and the hot, dark terror of her face makes Andy feel that warm pressure start in his stomach. 

“I don’t know, Miss Ludgate,” he says, taking a step toward her. She backs up into the counter, the sleeve of her dress falling further. Now that he looks at her, it seems she’s mussed up her hair a little, too. Suddenly, all he wants to do is mess it up even more. He takes a strand of it and tucks it behind her ear. “This all looks quite suspicious,” he says, lowering his voice. “Especially that very dope and very accurate painting over there.” He nods toward his handy work of red paint and triangles.

April looks over and he swears he sees her face change from terror to admiration, to that face she makes after he says, “time to fuck my wife,” when they get in bed. When she turns back to Andy, her face is back to its secret fear.

“Macklin,” April says. She takes a breath and her chest expands. Andy slides his hand down to the collar of her dress and pulls it down a little. He can almost see her nipples, if he just pulled a little more. “I swear, I’ve been--I’ve been framed!”

“Not likely,” Andy says, leaning in closer. He lets his eyes drift down to her chest and he watches her bare breasts rise and fall, her nipples perfect and taut. “I saw you dancing in the woods. Naked.”

“They made me do it!” she screams. She leans back and slams her hand on the counter, gripping the edge. “I’m not a witch!”

“The only person who can make us do things is the devil, Miss Ludgate. Are you telling me that night you were dancing with Satan himself?” Andy brings his fingers up to her chin and holds her. “Tell me the truth.”

April’s eyes are big and beautiful, tinted with worry. Her lips are slick and slightly parted, cheekbones hard and skin soft. Andy likes this, loves doing this. They’ve done Janket Sankehole and Burt Macklin too many times to count and this doesn’t feels that different. He’s worried about saying the wrong thing (which is almost impossible in the other scenario) but he still likes how he feels. Powerful, important, strong. April’s good at keeping up, she plays the game so well that he only needs to follow and ride the adrenaline.

He has a kickass wife, and if that means he gives her a kickass birthdya present that he half doesn’t understand, then that’s what he does.

“Fine,” April whispers. Her chin trembles between his fingers. “You’re right. I’m a witch.”

Andy lets her face go with a soft push. He turns, putting his hands on his hips. He takes a few steps and then stops.

“Damnit, Miss Ludgate. I wish you hadn’t told me that.” Andy looks up at the ceiling, bites his lip. “I’m in love with a witch.”

April starts laughing and Andy quickly looks back at her, scared he’s messed up. His accent was good, he’s pretty sure, despite Leslie’s lack of acknowledgement. British or something, he’s positive he’s doing that. Or maybe he shouldn’t be in love with her? But that’s not right. Macklin always admits he’s in love with Janet.

“Oh, Macklin,” April says. She sways her hips as she walks toward him and Andy’s dick grows hard against his pants. She softly picks up the fallen sleeve and pulls it back to it’s place. One of her breasts is in full view above her draping collar and he’s salivating thinking about wrapping his lips around it. “I knew if I made you fall in love with me, you’d never turn me in.”

April slides her hand up his chest and to his neck. He pretends to retract from her touch but he’s terrible at it, he knows he is, because her fingertips are sending waves of heat through his skin and his breaths are getting quicker and he just wants her. Now. She pushes her body into his and the pressure of her stomach on his dick is amazing. He moans.

“You should be burned,” he says.

April groans now, that deep horrifically beautiful sound that comes from her chest to her lips. Andy puts an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. He moves his hips so he can feel the smallest release of friction. His mind goes blank for a moment as he watches her face closely, her lips sneaking up into a grin and her eyes dark like she’s the most powerful woman in the world.

She is, she really is.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t turn you in,” Andy says.

April moves her hand up to his face and drags the back of her nail from his eyebrow, past his temple, to his chin. She digs the nail in there, turning it. He swears her touch left a trail of flames along his face. Maybe she really is a witch.

“Because you can’t.”

Andy devours her; kisses her lips with so much pressure that it pushes him forward until her ass smacks into the counter. There’s nothing graceful about this kiss, it’s mostly bumping teeth and gasps and tongues. But it feels so good. It’s warming and electrifying and smothering all his other senses until that’s all he is. Until he only tastes her lips and feels her skin and hears the moans in her throat and smells her shampoo and sees the lightening bolts behind his eyelids. 

She’s right, he loves her. Regardless of play or real life, it’s always there. Maybe he was always supposed to fall into a pit so he could always fall in love with April. He wonders what happened to this Macklin, did he fall into a pit and somehow become an inquisitor and that led him to this witch? How did FBI Burt meet Janet Snakehole? He’s getting lost in the what if’s and the fates that align in made up worlds and how they collide with this real one, but he comes back when April bites his bottom lip so hard he might just taste blood.

He pulls back, eyes wide. April licks her lips and there is no blood there but he imagines she’s licking it off anyway and it is incredibly, insanely hot.

“Woah,” he says.

There’s a flash of something along April’s face, something a little coy and maybe proud but it quickly rolls away and is replaced with her steady evil stare. It’s beautiful, it’s like she knows exactly how to find the fake candlelight so it can cast the harshest shadows along her face. Maybe she’s practiced.

April reaches for his pants and undoes the clasp way better than he did when he put them on. Leslie somehow also had old timey pants. He doesn’t understand how Leslie just has everything you could ever need for anything in the history of ever. One time he asked her for marshmallows and she had one in her pocket.

When he’s free, she immediately takes him in her hand. It’s probably impossible to ever tell or ever find out, but Andy’s pretty sure he’s never been more hard in his entire life. Her hand is soft and warm, her fingers thin. She softly traces the shaft with her nail and he sighs, pushing his forehead onto hers. They both watch as her hand moves up and down his cock, over veins and the tip and back down to his balls were she only teases him. Just a light swipe of her thumb before she goes back to the tip. He’s shaking and his spine is tingling and he wants to scream at her for more but at the same time, he wants to watch her do this forever.

April’s eyes flick up to him and it’s hard to focus on her when her hands are making such delicate work along his dick below. She bites her lip and he closes his eyes for a moment, just long enough for him to focus on the task at hand.

She’s an accused witch from Salem, Massachusetts in the year 1692. He repeats that in his head just to make sure he remembers. Andy is once again thinking she might _actually_ be a witch by the way she’s hypnotizing him.

“You can’t control me with your… witch m-magic.” Andy swears as she rolls her palm over his tip and slides her palm down the shaft again, slick with precum. “The devil can’t bewitch--fuck--me.”

April takes her hand away and Andy’s hand slams onto the counter. He doesn’t mean to hit it so hard but there’s something so emptying and painful about when she leaves him like that. She pushes him back and he takes two steps, watching her. He’s sweating, he can feel it. He takes off his shirt, he doesn’t know if he should, if this fits the play but he’s so hot.

Apparently it’s fine because April takes off her dress and he’s so fucking pumped to find her completely naked underneath. Her nipples are beautifully erect and brown and the rest of her is a complete masterpiece of sharp angles of bones underneath smooth, dark skin.

He gets the strangest urges when she’s naked. He wants to lick her palms and bite her collarbone. He wants to smell her and taste every inch of her. He wants to push his thumb into the indentation at the base of her throat and scrape his teeth along her neck. He wants to wrap himself around her, carry her, his blood surges through his body and all he wants to do is hide her and keep her as his. It’s animalistic and insane but it’s something he’s never felt before. Not with anyone. 

Her eyes move to his dick and back to his eyes. She drops the dress at his feet and she goes to her knees on top of it. Andy’s in the middle of the kitchen with nothing to hold on to and his smokin’ hot wife -- accused witch in Salem from 1692 -- is going to blow him. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

_Fuck_.

April’s mouth is warm. Her tongue is heavy and when he touches the back of her throat he rolls his fingers into fists. She drops him just as fast as she took him and when he looks down at her, his heart swells and his dick twitches next to her face.

“Please,” she says and Andy almost falls over. “Don’t turn me in, Macklin. A trial would be such a waste. Think of what we could do together instead.”

“But you’re a witch, a criminal!” It comes out so fast and natural, he almost wants to pat himself on the back.

“I’m also your lover.”

Then she takes him into her mouth again, her eyes locked on his as she takes him to her throat and out again. He loves the jolt of her tongue on the underside of his shaft as he goes in and the soft pucker as he comes out. She wraps a hand around his dick and her other one cups his balls and squeezes just like he likes, just as he’s always told her he loves.

“Fuck, April,” he says and he knows he should call her Miss Ludgate or a fucking witch but he has nothing to hold on to and his brain is mush and his whole body is on fire. The warm comforting fire that he’s addicted to. 

“God, I love you so much,” Andy groans, breaking eye contact with her so he can try to focus on standing. “Holy sh” -- April lets go of his dick and holds onto his hips, pulling him closer as sucks -- “April, oh my _God_. You’re the most amazing woman in the world -- what the fffff--” 

April smooths her hands to his ass and pushes him into her mouth so hard that he’s almost certain he’s injured her somehow. But he hasn’t, he’s just deep in her throat and when he looks at her, her eyes are watering and her eyebrows are up in some kind of hot desperation but she holds onto him, makes him stay as full and deep in her mouth as she can take. He pushes her hair back from her face.

“That feels awesome, babe, fuck--yes. Shit, what are you--you’re perfect, you’re the best.”

She whimpers and he feels her throat move. April’s eyes go wide and she pulls away and lets him go, gasping for air, spit trailing down her chin. She rolls her thumb over her chin and says between breaths, “You can’t lock up a girl who does that.”

Andy bends down and lifts her up by the base of her skull, both hands cradling her. She hurries to her feet and he kisses her tear stained cheeks before taking over her mouth with his lips. 

“Did the devil teach you to do that?” He steps out of his pants, toeing off his shoes in the process. He kind of trips and they laugh, he’s not sure if they’re laughing at his last line or him tripping, but they work together to get him out of his shoes regardless.

When he’s free, Andy grabs her and pulls her down into the dining room, he pushes the candles out of the way but leaves the various plants and flowers he and Leslie picked on the table. Once its clear, he hoists her onto the table and helps her fall back onto the wood.

He looks at her, admires her from this angle, her stomach even flatter, legs open so that he can just see the pink of her. 

“I’m sorry, babe, but you’re so hot.”

“Andy!”

“I’m sorry, sorry.”

Andy clears his throat before opening her legs. His mouth instantly waters. She’s slick and pink and everything about her screams to be eaten. He kneels in front of her and he can already smell her arousal and it makes his dick throb and his tongue poke out from between his lips. He’s remembering her taste and he practically growls at the memory. 

“Come on Macklin, what are you, scared?”

He grabs her legs and pulls her to his face, her ass sliding forward and barely staying on the table as he devours her.

Andy has a routine with April’s pussy. Not a routine exactly, because routines are boring, but a set of guidelines that he likes and are perfect for both of them. He’ll trace it and love it and push and circle. He’ll kiss down her body leaving trails of compliments in the wake of his kisses. Then he’ll kiss her thighs and the creases and the outer lips before he dives in and even his first taste is slow unless they’re in a hurry. 

But this? This is just want and lust and the intoxicating need to have her all over his face. He’d voluntarily drown in her pussy if it meant he could revive himself just to do it all over again. He figures he’ll try to chance death right now because he can’t imagine coming up for air anyway.

She tastes awesome, she smells insane. His tongue concentrates on her clit while his fingers move in and out of her, curling in just the right spot. He wants to make her cum and maybe he’s moving a bit fast and maybe he’s doing his tried and true method but he just wants to do it because he wants to do it again right after and after and after until the end of time.

April is clawing at his hair and pulling and it hurts but it’s a pleasant burn that only makes him move faster. Her heels hit his back and she’s squirming but he likes chasing her. The best part about April is she’s fun. She’s fun here, with her pussy pressed against his face, she’s fun at work where she makes up reasons to hang out with him and help him do any number of things. She’s fun at bars because she doesn't care if he buys her a drink and she likes to dance like aliens.

April bucks against Andy’s face and she’s slicker and tightening and loosening and he feels it coming and when she convulses around his mouth and fingers he feels like a fucking god.

“Macklin,” April pants and Andy keeps lapping at her, her body twitching as he goes. “Are you sure _you’re_ not working for the devil?”

Andy doesn’t know if she’s giving him a clue about some new route they can go or if she’s just saying nonsense. He decides that his character would never work for the devil and gets up, pulling her limp body to him from the back of her neck. He kisses her, tangles his tongue with hers so she can taste herself.

When he pulls back, the sight of her, heavy with ecstasy and lips wet, is incredible. He holds her upright and takes a step between her legs. His dick presses on her, so wet and open.

“I’m going to fuck the devil out of you.”

April’s eyes go big and her mouth parts in surprise. He swears he almost hears her gasp. He pushes forward a little and places his forehead on hers. April blinks and her eyes darken and focus, her lips pursing before sliding into a smile.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Andy reaches between them to make sure he’s lined up perfectly and then he pushes into her, hard and unforgiving. April gasps and screams, clutching at his shoulders. He stays still, deep inside her, taking in the soft, slick heat of her. She tightens around him, bites his shoulder, but waits patiently. He pulls back and does it again, harder, making the table scrape along the floor.

“Fuck,” April hisses.

He does it again. She says his name, his real name, and it makes his hands snap to her waist and he starts fucking her. He’s thrusting hard and deep but not as fast as he wants to go. He wants to last. He wants to fuckign fuck the devil out of her and he’s not going to do that if he cums too soon. He’s not 16 anymore but he’s still a human man.

April holds onto his shoulders, his neck, but at some point she just falls back onto the table as he keeps pistoning into her. Her back arches and he groans at the new angle. He spreads her legs open and holds onto her thighs as he fucks her, watches her limp body try to hold on, rose petals and leaves moving along the surface of the table. Her breasts are bouncing and her hair is fanned around her head in a beautiful halo. He likes to watch her eyes roll back and her eyelids struggle to stay open, it always makes her look slightly possessed and it always makes him slightly lose control.

“You’re the hottest witch ever, I don’t even -- oh fuck -- I don’t even care if you are a witch. You’re my witch now.” 

This makes April’s eyes pop open and focus on him. The sight of her brown eyes, so intent and eager on him, makes him move faster, makes his legs shake and that familiar relaxing heat move up his legs. Fuck, he doesn’t want this to end, he hates that there is always an ending but he can’t stop chasing that feeling. It -- _she_ \-- feels so incredible.

April pushes her hand over her breasts and down her stomach and Andy starts thrusting faster, deeper, harder in anticipation. Her body moves, the table squeaks, and her fingers find her clit. Andy holds onto her tighter and fucks her as deep as he can and as fast as he can and wills his body to stay on the edge and not go over. Not until his witch cums.

“April,” he says and she gives him a warning glance but he pounds into her and her eyes roll back. “I’m -- please cum. Please. Shit, shit.”

He can feel her become slick, sees her hand move faster, her eyelids fluttering and back arching. He’s starting to feel like making deals with the devil isn’t so bad, he could have awesome powers and maybe could fuck his wife forever. Maybe he’d get some new clothes or like a wand? Or is that just a wizard? 

“Andy,” April says and he snaps back to the moment, this awesome moment, and she’s looking at him. He knows that face, that vulnerable, desperate plea along her brow and her big eyes and parted lips. Her head falls back again and her hand leaves her clit. She tenses and with her sweet release, he moves faster.

She turns into a limp mess of whimpers and twitches but he fucks her relentlessly until his muscles tighten and release in heart pounding waves of electricity.

April covers her face, muffling her soft moans as Andy slowly stills his hips. He’s trying to control his breathing while desperately clinging to this high. His body is already starting to become heavy so he leans onto the table, gripping the edge on either side of April’s thighs. He pulls out and back in once more because he just fucking needs to.

They both gasp and sigh. April looks at him between her fingers and he sees her smile and he smiles back. He leans down and kisses her chest before pushing past her hands with his nose and kissing her mouth.

“I love you. Happy birthday,” he whispers, like a secret.

April turns her head away, and makes that really cute sound she makes when he is really cute. He says really cute stuff all the time so he’s used to this behavior. He pulls out of her and helps her sit up. April looks around the house and Andy picks a rose petal from her hip and tosses it to the ground. He rubs her sides as she continues to look around. He just looks at her.

She finally turns her gaze to him and his body feels like Jell-O. He wants to wrap himself around her and seep into her skin and sleep. He always gets so sleepy afterward. April reaches for him and he wraps his arms around her waist as she does the same with her legs around his. Her arms circle his neck and she buries her face into his cheek. She rubs her nose along his beard and kisses him.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Can we keep the decorations up for awhile?”

Andy pulls back. “Babe, we can keep this up forever. In fact, I’m pretty sure that awesome thing I painted on the wall is never coming off.”

“God, I love you.”

Andy kisses her and fist pumps. “Birthday. Nailed it. Best husband ever.”

April rolls her eyes but pulls him in for a kiss.

_Definitely_ nailed it.


End file.
